Play Along!
by Rosa Cotton
Summary: Bilbo ended up the elves' prisoner along with the dwarves due to the loss of her ring. In an attempt to get them released she spun a tale about unexpected love to the king. Who would have suspected the rumors to be true about elves being secret romantics? Movieverse, AU. No slash. Female!Bilbo.


Disclaimer: _The Hobbit_, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.

Author's Note: Fill for a prompt on the hobbit-kink meme.

* * *

Play Along!

It was the sixth day since Thorin Oakenshield's Company had left the fortress of the King of Mirkwood behind. The traveling was somewhat strained and awkward, what with the dwarves keeping silent (and occasionally abruptly cutting off the lads when they tried to voice a question) while burning with increasing curiosity, exchanging sidelong mistrustful looks with their escorts. Ten elves accompanied the group; of them Prince Legolas and Captain Tauriel were the ones who spoke up the most. As the days had slipped by, the dwarves stared more and more expectedly at their burglar who avoided their eyes and frequently walked near the front with Legolas.

One dwarf in particular who rarely took his eyes off the Halfling was Bofur. Each time he looked at her puzzlement and awed hope washed over him. While his friends grumbled under their breath about the annoying tree-huggers, his thoughts were focused on their unexpected release from the elven king's dungeons.

He had clung to the bars of his cell with a death grip, glaring at the door through which the elves swept out with Bilbo to bring her before their king. He did not relax until an immeasurable time later she reappeared unharmed with the elfling prince.

When the dwarf's cell door was opened, he was surprised when the lass quickly entered and threw her arms around his neck, her wide smile tight around the edges as she called him dear heart, brightly told him he had had not to worry about her. Then the world tilted and his heart threatened to burst when she brushed her lips gently against his cheek (never had anyone done something like that to him before!). He barely caught her desperate words in his ear, "_Play along!_" because his arms were instinctively moving to bring her closer only to discover he held empty air as she darted away with the prince to free the others.

Loudly she reassured the dwarves they would _not_ have to worry about postponing the wedding after all (otherwise she'd have become extremely cross). Because the elven king apparently also enjoyed weddings and very kindly decided to let them all go. Wasn't it wonderful?

In mute bewilderment the miner had received congratulations from many of the elves (and three or four requests to receive an invitation).

Bofur was not the cleverest of dwarves, but he was not stupid. With nearly a week to consider everything that had happened – from Bilbo's plea and subsequent anxiety and embarrassment, to Captain Tauriel's dreamy sighs whenever she looked between him and Bilbo, to Legolas's half disbelieving, half curious stare, and the odd questions he and the Halfling had fielded – the toymaker _could_ put two and two together.

And he did not like it. Because he did not want to play along. Because he wanted to know why it was _him_ stuck in this. Because he was not sure what he would do if it turned—

"Miss Baggins."

The toymaker snapped back to the present at the blond-haired elf's calling. Blinking, he focused on the prince and hobbit up ahead.

"Yes?"

"Why are you not wearing an engagement ring?"

Bilbo held up her hand and stared at it blankly. "Um…"

"Someone might think you were available," Legolas commented.

"She is not!" Bofur blurted without thinking, his braids and mustache quivering as he clutched and unclutched his fists.

"I just meant—"

"It will be a dwarven wedding we're having," Bilbo interrupted hurriedly, throwing an imploring look to Bofur before focusing on the taller creature. "So we're following dwarf tradition."

The hatted dwarf nodded quickly. "When dwarves become engaged, they exchange beads and weave engagement braids in one another's hair," he explained, ignoring Bifur's disapproving elbowing in his side.

"Ah!" the group of elves chorused. Then they studied Bilbo's long wild curly hair – no braids or beads in sight.

"They came undone," Bofur stammered, "the spiders…"

Bilbo said at the same time, "The bead got lost."

The two stared at each other. Flushing, the lass looked away first, and resolutely marched on.

Murmuring something about true love, Tauriel sighed dreamily, and Bofur almost sighed along with her, his heart simultaneously soaring and sinking.

* * *

Four more days passed. And between Bilbo struggling to evade Bofur, keep the other dwarves from blowing their cover, and to provide convincing answers to the elves' questions about her and Bofur's romance all at the same time, the pain she felt over the loss of her ring was gradually forgotten. More than once everything had almost fallen apart. (Such as when asked how long they'd been engaged, she and Bofur gave different responses. And Kili and Ori could _not keep their mouths shut_.) If they all could just make it until they were on their own again…!

It was all starting to weigh down on the hobbit. Because she felt incredibly guilty dragging Bofur, who was being a total sweetheart, into this. Because she dreaded what he would think of her once the elves took their leave and she explained everything. Because somewhere deep down Bilbo wished this was not a charade.

"Miss Baggins?"

Slowly, reluctantly, the lass tore her gaze from the flames of the campfire to look at the captain seated nearby, leaning towards her.

"When did you realize you loved Master Bofur?"

The hobbit tensed, heat spreading over her cheeks as everyone stopped what they were doing to listen. Clasping her hands together in her lap nervously, Bilbo swallowed around the lump in her throat, her mind scrambling for an appropriate response.

"Well, now," she murmured, carefully choosing her words, "last spring I traveled with him and some of his friends, and I had a misadventure – not my first or last. I ended up separated from the dwarves and got terribly lost. When I finally found them again…," her voice grew softer as she trailed off. "I'll never forget the expression on Bofur's face, the relief in his eyes and the joyful smile on his face. Right then I knew I was lost."

In the heavy silence Bilbo's heart pounded in her ears, her eyes caught up in Bofur's intense, bright gaze; his expression was impossible for her to interpret. Yet that did nothing to stop the hundreds of butterflies fluttering in her chest. Only when the miner was called did the spell woven around them shatter, and the lass ducked her head.

"And you, Master Bofur?" the red-haired elf asked eagerly. "How long have you loved your hobbit?"

The toymaker rubbed his hand over his face, and quickly cast a warning glance when some of the dwarves started mumbling about discretion and nosiness.

"I have loved Bilbo from the moment I first saw her."

Bilbo silently gasped, and snapped her head up, eyes widening in shock. _He is playing along, just playing along_, she reminded herself sternly.

The dwarf continued, "I fell through the door of her hobbit hole along with my kin and friends. And there she was: gazing down at us in surprise and exasperation, wearing her dressing gown. Fairer than any dwarf I'd ever seen." He sighed deeply.

"Dwarves love only once in their lives, and it is a fierce, unbreakable love they share with their mate," Bofur's voice dropped an octave. "When I saw her, I just knew she was my One."

"That is so romantic!" Legolas proclaimed, cupping his chin in his hand, a wistful expression on his face.

Bilbo agreed wholeheartedly with the elf. She had not known dwarves had only one love in their entire lives. The revelation left her reeling, and her heart ached.

Bofur's admittance sounded full of such conviction; the tenderness in his eyes as he looked at her, causing her heart skip a beat, seemed so genuine. He was playing his part very well – perhaps too well.

"Anyway," the elf prince shook himself, "we should reach Mirkwood's border tomorrow if we start early."

"To bed, then," Thorin issued, rising from his seat by the fire.

Suddenly tired, Bilbo slowly got to her feet, happy to obey. She briefly returned Bofur's nod as he moved to join his brother and cousin.

"Do dwarves not kiss their intended goodnight?" a guard inquired with a disappointed frown, having caught the small exchange.

The lass froze, glancing helplessly back at the guard, oblivious to the dwarves starting to moan and grumble. Floundering, she did not have time to think of what to do or say because Bofur suddenly loomed before her, only a hand's width away. His expression, bathed in shadow and firelight, was serious as he stepped closer, hands coming up to rest on either side of her head. Breathless, the hobbit did not resist as she was gently drawn forward, the dwarf meeting her halfway, their foreheads softly pressing together for a long moment.

Bilbo squeezed her eyes shut. This was not the first time Bofur had done this, she realized in growing wonderment. After the trolls, he'd checked her over for injuries. When she assured him she was unharmed, it seemed like a weight had lifted from his shoulders as the familiar merriment returned to his face accompanied by a look she hadn't been able to identify, and he'd touched his forehead to hers gently for a time that had seemed to go on forever.

The hobbit's eyes opened when the contact ended, discovering Bofur had pulled away slightly, his face almost blurry in her vision. His breathing seemed as shallow and quick as hers. They gazed at each other searchingly.

Vaguely in the background Bilbo overheard Balin say to the elves, "_That_ is a dwarven kiss."

The lass's heart stuttered in her chest. Oh, dear!

* * *

By sunset the following day, the company bid adieu to their escorts at the edge of Mirkwood, the parting going fairly well all things considered. There were extra congratulations and well wishes to the happy couple, as well as an invitation to return for a proper visit. Yes, in the end, everything had gone better than Bilbo dared hope.

In all honestly she was not the least bit surprised when, barely three minutes after the elves vanished into the trees, the dwarves levelled unamused glares at her, and a scowling Thorin started to demand, "_What_, Burglar…" She rolled her eyes, irritation bubbling up. The ruse had worked, thank you, and that was all that mattered! But there was no opportunity for lost tempers and sharp words, because Bilbo found her hand caught in a firm grasp. A voice above her muttering gruffly about privacy, she was pulled insistently away from the group (who did not bother to even pretend not to gawk with interest as the two disappeared), and soon was carefully pushed against a tree trunk, large warm hands settling on her shoulders. Drawing in a fortifying breath, Bilbo bravely looked up into Bofur's contemplative face.

"Why?" he eventually spoke.

"I did it because I'd heard elves are somewhat romantic creatures. The only reason I could come up with to account for my presence without revealing our quest or making them more suspicious was that I intended to marry one of the dwarves," the hobbit explained, "and we were travelling to the Iron Hills where the ceremony would be held. Never did I suspect my story would go over that well with the king. I am sorry for this, truly. I did not mean to put you in such a terribly awkward position. I did not realize dwarves had a One. Please accept my apologies. Thank…thank you for playing along," she finished with a weak smile.

She expected him to become angry, stomp off, and never speak to her again after learning what had been going on, the sham he'd unwittingly been dragged into. Instead, the dwarf silently regarded her, a light frown on his brow. Growing more and more uncomfortable with the lengthening silence, Bilbo opened her mouth to apologize once more.

"That's not what I meant. Why _me?_" Bofur's voice was a low whisper.

The Halfling shut her mouth. For a second she blinked up at the miner. There were no hints of anger or displeasure in his face, just confusion, uncertainty, and something possibly like hope. Tentatively the lass placed her hands on top of his gloved ones.

"I did not lie…what I said about loving you. How you looked when I caught up with the company… You were always there, making sure I wasn't left behind. You are funny, kind, brave. If I had to spin a tale about unexpected romance between a hobbit and dwarf, I'd rather it was with someone I did love," she confessed in an equally quiet voice. "At least that part of the story was true."

Bofur stiffened, inhaled sharply. Bilbo's stomach dropped at his reaction. In the end she had gotten it all wrong. Despite her secret wishes in silly notions like happy endings – for the quest and beyond. What a fool she was! Her eyes slid shut in defeat, her throat burning. The air was stolen from her lungs moments later when a forehead came to rest against hers, the brim of a furry hat tickling her skin.

"And I meant everything I said as well, Bilbo."

The Halfling's eyes flew open wide, and she gaped at the dwarf, speechless. He stared back with a dimpled smile and affectionate look.

"From the very beginning, I knew it was ye."

Slowly, the lass let out a long sigh and smiled in return. When Bofur pulled one of his hands from between her shoulder and hand, she huffed in protest, tugging on his sleeve. He gently ran his fingers through her curls.

"I'll weave engagement braids in yer hair after dinner," he stated, his smile brightening even more.

"Skipping courtship, Master Bofur? Will the others not be scandalized?" Bilbo asked, laughing lightly.

Bofur pulled back slightly, his expression turning solemn. "I think we're past that, Miss Bilbo."

Her green eyes examined him for a moment. "I suppose we are," she conceded, her voice soft.

He clasped her hands in both of his. "Then will ye make me the happiest of dwarves, and consent to be my wife?" he proposed.

A blush spread over the hobbit's cheeks as she nodded. "I will," she promised.

Bofur's joyful laugh made Bilbo shiver, and then she was enveloped in his strong, warm embrace. (The distant outburst of cheering that followed may or may not have been simply her imagination.) When she stood up on tiptoe to teach him what a hobbit-kiss was, and seconds later she was swept off her feet and being kissed breathless, Bilbo thought that even with a fearsome dragon waiting, it was not such a bad thing to wish for happy endings.

THE END


End file.
